Looking at Big Blue Things – Eva Dexter

April 2, 2026

A Tree fell down on my street and now it’s just down. I kept thinking about going and standing by it and asking it such a good question that it would just stand back up again. Making lunch is the last meditative act. I keep wanting the huge office blocks in Canary Wharf to crash down on top of each other. I can’t believe they’re not alive. Waking up in the morning now takes the strength of a spartan warrior. If I do that am I Leonidas or am I that tweet that’s like you people can’t do anything. When my childhood friends lied but in an endearing way I probably should have felt sympathy instead of anger. I love dinner in strange non-places but I hope they realised my remarks transcended post-irony and became sincere again. I exist in a market but yearn for inalienable passions which were not granted so the days are stillborn now. Please stop saying we’re all doomed I can’t take it anymore. I’ve never stopped wanting to play with toys, but it was snatched from me like the ant carrying a bindle or a wig hurtling through all the skyscrapers in central London and now I’d rather sleep all day and dream about something brilliant being inside them, like a tunnel that goes all the way to my childhood body being warm in owl pyjamas. There was always something terrible in the grownups laughter. I’m roleplaying as my higher self and gangstalking my lower self and I miss everyone who I don’t talk to anymore and this feeling is older than the universe. I have been good to you. If all my friends are hanging out without me do I really exist? If I were a plant the sun would feel like my mother hugging me, but always and I want that so bad. I’ve had premonitions that are bound to come true. Like the dream where I find a lonely girl sleeping under the tree that fell down. You can always return to the past, but there’s no one there anymore to make you sandwiches, halved, or cut into quarters? I can never tell if the buildings in the distance are something funny or horrible. Like the memory I have of doing a forwards roll for the first time as a child and no one was there to see. And when I would go to the dentist it felt like going to church. I’m building sandcastles in my mind. Humans do not care about the natural order because we buy meat instead of killing it and they remove all the bones and emulsify it into something that God would shrink from like a germaphobe. We used to be cheetahs together. When I’m scared it’s because all the days of the week have spread out in a line from biggest to smallest and are coming to get me. All I do is endure. I’m moving in silence but also very loudly at the same time. What does that sound like? It sounds like wind sucking through trees.